


Love Me, Feed Me, Never Leave Me

by TheGoliathBeetle



Category: Free!
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective!Haru, Sickfic, Tropes, makoto doesn't know when to stop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 12:19:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8102182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGoliathBeetle/pseuds/TheGoliathBeetle
Summary: "Haru sighed, clearly resigned to the fact that Makoto was just going to do his Makoto thing of not taking care of himself until he passed out in an alley somewhere in the dead of night."Makoto falls sick, but his college workload gives him no time to recover. Thank goodness he has Haruka..Written for MakoHaru Week 2016Prompt: Favourite Trope





	

**Author's Note:**

> I’m guilty as hell for loving sickfics. I’m guilty as hell for torturing Makoto. But today’s prompt is ‘Favourite Trope’, and well, this is what I decided to write. In the end, I’m not really guilty at all.
> 
> The title is from a line in a Garfield comic. 
> 
> .
> 
> For MakoHaru Week 2016  
> Date: Wednesday, 21st September  
> Prompt: Favourite Trope

"You're getting worse."

Makoto sneezed again, and then rolled his eyes, as if to say, _wow Haru, that's a really astute observation._ He wasn't in the mood for his boyfriend's protectiveness, for his doting, for his care. It was sweet that Haru cared for him, but right now, that was more a hindrance than a blessing. (Ugh, since when was Makoto this mean? He was just feeling so _awful._ )

The end of the college semester was nearing, and with that, the workload had increased. Makoto had to make three presentations and write two papers, each ten thousand words, all to be submitted over the next seven days, and his body chose _now_ to start acting up. The first day he'd woken up with a murderous headache and a raw throat, Haru had made him stay in bed and plied him with tea and soup and aspirins, forbidding Makoto from getting any work done so that he could rest.

It had backfired. By missing that valuable one day, Makoto had just become more stressed. His health got worse and worse. Haru had since backed off a little, clearly feeling guilty. That made Makoto feel guiltier in turn. He really appreciated his boyfriend's attention, he was so lucky to have someone like Haru who took care of him so well. He didn't want to seem ungrateful.

But right now, he didn't want to be reminded off the way his temples throbbed or how his cough and blocked nose was making it hard to breathe. He tried to ignore how his eyes would water and burn every few minutes as he poured over his laptop and textbooks, sourcing information and quoting people in the right format. So he ignored Haru.

"Makoto. Makoto, you've been working for hours. At least take a nap."

Haru was looking up from his own papers. Admittedly, he didn't have quite the workload Makoto did. His was a more sports-focused course, and while the training tired him out completely, it wasn't quite as mentally demanding as what Makoto was doing.

"Yeah Haru, five minutes," Makoto lied. His voice came out like a harsh whisper. _Yeah Haru, fibe minids_. Speaking irritated his throat further, and he started to cough. Ugh…he had a presentation to give tomorrow, how was he going to do it?

Haru sighed, getting up from where he was sitting on the bed and going over to the study desk to rub Makoto's back. "I'm sure your teachers would understand if you were sick," Haru consoled.

Makoto tried to say, _no, no they won't, they hate excuses_ , but he didn't think he could form the words. Besides, he had to preserve his voice to get through tomorrow. A fifteen-minute presentation on ACL injuries was bad enough without the thought of coughing and rasping his way through it.

Haru sighed, clearly resigned to the fact that Makoto was just going to do his _Makoto thing_ of not taking care of himself until he passed out in an alley somewhere in the dead of night. "I'll make you some more tea," Haru simply said, to which his boyfriend nodded gratefully. Tea sounded wonderful. Tea sounded like manna from heaven.

Returning a ten minutes later with two cups of ginger tea and a plate of cut apples, Haru ordered, "you better eat this if you want to feel better."

Although Makoto made a face, he didn't dare argue. He didn't have the energy, anyway, even though the idea of food made his stomach roil. Maybe he'd just nibble at a piece or two, just to pacify Haru, and then throw the apple away when the other boy wasn't looking.

Haru placed him under a hard stare. "You have to finish it."

Ugh.

"You didn't eat breakfast either."

"'Kay," Makoto rasped out, pouting and turning back to his computer. Haru was right. Had the roles been reversed, Makoto would have coaxed Haru into eating as well. It was the same way he'd take care of his younger siblings when they fell ill. Haru meant well. Any other time, Makoto would have obliged.

Right now, he was just so stressed. Having someone fuss over him just made it worse somehow.

He felt Haru's cold hands cup his face from behind. "It's going to be okay," he said in his softest, sweetest voice, kissing Makoto right on his throbbing temple. Makoto hummed, closing his eyes. What he wouldn't give to just fall asleep, right here, right now, cuddled up with Haru without a care in the world. As though from a distance, he heard his boyfriend say, "also, you have a fever again."

For the last couple of days, Makoto's fever kept coming and going, getting really high and then disappearing several hours later.

"You should see a doctor," Haru went on when Makoto just switched tabs on Google Chrome to find some obscure snippet of information he was sure he'd bookmarked somewhere. Haru sighed again, gently running his fingers over Makoto's scalp.

Makoto groaned softly, closing his eyes.

"Feels good?" Haru asked, increasing the pressure on his fingertips as he pressed Makoto's forehead.

"Don't, Haru, I'll fall asleep." Makoto was already struggling to keep his eyes open.

"You need sleep."

"Not now." _Dot dow_ , was how the words came out. He still had three thousand more words to go to finish this paper. If he worked through the rest of the afternoon, he could do it.

"What am I going to do with you?" Haru asked, not unkindly, as he stopped his ministrations and kissed Makoto's temple again. Despite himself, Makoto hummed and smiled, eyes closed.

"Love me, feed me, never leave me," he quipped, something he'd read in an old comic about a cartoon cat. Just saying that made him cough again, painful hacking sounds that made Makoto feel like he was coughing up a lung. He could feel Haru rubbing his back to sooth him, whispering sweet nothings into the quiet room.

"Drink your tea," Haru said when Makoto finally stopped coughing. For emphasis, Haru lifted the cup and brought it to Makoto's lips.

Makoto really, really wanted to say, _thanks Haru, you're the best, I love you so much_ , but he was pretty sure that if he tried, his throat would collapse into his stomach so he didn't dare. Instead, he just smiled in a way he hoped Haru would infer, and opened his mouth to let his boyfriend bring the cup to his lips.

The tea was mercilessly hot, even the first sip cutting through the congestion in Makoto's throat and helping him take an easier breath. He raised his hands and took the cup from Haru's palms, sighing in relief as the tea worked its magic.

"Drink and eat," Haru simply ordered, going back to his own books. "You can then take an aspirin and sleep for a while."

 _Bossy_ , Makoto thought, shooting Haru a tiny sideways smirk. The nap was out of the question, he just didn't have the time. Still, it was cute to see Haru so protective and caring. Makoto was always unused to being doted on; he felt so loved.

* * *

Right now, Makoto was about 98% sure he was going to pass out. It was embarrassing. Here he was, standing in front of class, choking out his presentation on ACL injuries with whatever voice he had left, and for a second, the room spun. Mercifully, he was standing close to the teacher's desk, and was able to reach out and steady himself. Nevertheless, when he looked up, the whole class – all forty students including his professor – were staring at him with various expressions of concern.

He just ignored it and carried on. Changing the slide with the press of a button, Makoto started, "…and now we move on to examples of athletes who were able to compete after recovering from ACL in-" The back of his head throbbed painfully, Makoto started to see stars. "-Injuries," he recovered.

"Tachibana," the professor interrupted, "are you all right?" He was standing at the back of the class to see the presentation better, but now he took a few steps forward.

"I'm okay, don't worry, Sensei," Makoto waved him off although his voice shook. But he really wasn't. He had to sit down or he was going to fall over. "I just need a…minute," he murmured, staggering over to the nearest empty chair (the teacher's chair, as it happened). He was never going to live this down, how mortifying.

The teacher approached, taking a good look at Makoto. "You look terrible, Tachibana," was all he said.

Makoto closed his eyes. Even in the darkness behind his shut eyelids, he felt like the floor was moving. "It's just a little cold, sensei," he rasped out, although his voice was starting to fail again.

"Will you be okay to finish?"

Standing as carefully as he could, Makoto smiled. "I'm fine." To the class, he added, "sorry about that." If he rescheduled his presentation now – while he was halfway through it – everyone would just be inconvenienced. He was fine. He could do this. The teacher looked at him with a dubious frown, but then nodded and went back to the end of the class, his eyes watching Makoto like a hawk.

"So, as I was saying, in this segment I'm looking at athletes with –" Before Makoto's eyes, the room broke away into little confusing pixels. _Wha-oh no_ , was all he managed to think before his body gave up on him and he dropped to the floor.

* * *

Haru hated answering his phone, and only ever texted his friends. He usually ignored a call from an unrecognisable number. Now, he stared long and hard at his phone, wondering if he should bother. His own class was supposed to begin soon anyway.

Finally, he hit the answer button and raised it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Nanase Haruka?"

"Yes?"

"Hi, this is Arakida, I'm a classmate of Tachibana-kun's? You're his roommate."

Something heavy and cold dropped to Haru's stomach. "What happened?"

Arakida paused for a moment, then nervously replied, "he passed out. Could you pick him up?"

Haru was running out of his college building before Arakida could finish his sentence.

* * *

"Haru, I – "

"Don't," Haru snapped as they waited at the footpath in front of Makoto's university, waiting for the cab they'd called.

Makoto shut up. Haru was mad at him, really mad. It made Makoto a little nervous, honestly. He couldn't believe he'd just fainted like that, in front of class, in the middle of his presentation, _in mid-sentence._

Luckily, he was in a room full of people studying sports education and they knew how to deal with random injuries. Luckier still, Makoto woke up only moments later, to someone flicking drops of water on his burning face.

But now, he needed help even standing up. Haru was supporting him, one of Makoto's arms around his shoulders. Every bone in Makoto's body ached, and he thought the blaring headache he had was going to kill him. He could barely speak, apart from a few sickly whispers, if he could even manage to get those out through his sneezing and coughing.

When the cab pulled up, Haru bundled Makoto inside. Makoto was shivering. Haru pulled him close, hugging him protectively and rubbing his arms to warm him up, but it didn't help.

"I have half a mind to take you straight to the hospital," he said just as Makoto was about to doze off on Haru's shoulder.

"No, don –" he broke off and started hacking. He could feel Haru rubbing his back.

"I know you hate them, so I won't," Haru went on. "But if you pass out again, or if your fever doesn't break, Makoto, I swear –" he cut himself off when he looked at Makoto's pathetically sick, pleading face. As though Makoto was saying, _I'll be fine, Haru-chan_ , with that adorable little smile of his.

There was going to be no studying for a while now. Makoto could recognise an argument he couldn't win. When they got home, Haru helped him change his clothes and tucked him into bed, telling him in no uncertain terms that he had to check his temperature on a thermometer, eat some soup, take some pills and only then will he be allowed to sleep.

"And I'll talk to your teachers about rescheduling your submission dates," Haru went on before he left the bedroom. "Nobody wants a student dropping dead in the middle of class."

"I didn't dr –" Makoto started coughing again.

"And don't talk, you'll just get worse."

Haru returned a few minutes later with soup, water, a thermometer and aspirin, and placed all of it on the bedside table. He scowled at the clinical beeping that said _101 F_. "Honestly Makoto, what do you do to yourself?" he chided gently, pushing the hair off his boyfriend's face.

Makoto was only able to finish half the bowl of soup before his stomach started to protest and the nausea rose to his throat, so Haru didn't force him to have any more. He really hoped the aspirin would help his headache. Everything felt too bright, too loud, too painful.

Suddenly, cool fingers ran through Makoto's scalp, and he let out a soft, grateful groan.

"Feels good?" Haru asked again, kissing his cheek.

"Mmh, yes," he managed to say, closing his eyes.

"Good. Get some sleep."

Makoto drifted off to the feel of Haru's fingers combing through his scalp, and although everything still felt hot and heavy and painful, he fell into a restful slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> Pfft, all sickfics end the same way. Gosh, I love them so much xD Thanks for reading. Please comment!


End file.
